Dream Come True
by sodapop319
Summary: Ivan likes Alfred but sadly the feeling doesn't go both ways. The Russian plans to change that.
1. Lonely

Ivan was sick of his shit. Alfred was such a child and got angry when treated accordingly. All Ivan wanted was to push the annoying blonde down a flight of stairs. The said blonde was currently poking the food on his plate his boyfriend had been so generous to make. Angry lilac bore into frustrated blue as the two stared down one another.

"Eat," Ivan said, finally breaking the silence.

"...I wanted pizza.." Was Alfred small reply. Was he fucking serious?! The boy must have been brain dead to den a perfectly good home cooked meal over some pizza.

"I will shove that Pelmeni so far down your throat that you won't be able to eat for weeks, okay?" Ivan retorted with an innocent smile. Alfred was startled by the comment. Even though they had been dating for a good 3 months, the other man's death threats always gave him a familiar trickle of fear running down his spine. He stopped poking for a second to look up at Ivan with those baby blue puppy dog eyes. The eyes he knew made the Russian melt with love, the eyes that had attracted him to the American the very first time he saw them.

Ivan sighed in defeat and hung his head.

"Put the food in Tupperware and I'll order the pizza."

A smile slowly spread across Alfred's face. Ivan could never say no to him, and that's just the way he liked it. He stood up from his seat and walked around the table so he would be behind his boyfriend. His tan arms wrapped around Ivans' waist as he rested his head on his shoulder before pecking him on the cheek.

"I love you." Ivan mumbled an 'mhm,' in return. Alfred let the other's shoulder dig into his cheek.

"I might even love you more than I love pizza," he teased. A remark to which Ivan turned his head to face the other and said.

"I sure hope so. Though it might be hard for you to love something else than food, you being American and all," He teased back.

"Asshole."

"Only for you."

After pizza and cleaning, the two went to bed. Ivan on the left, and Alfred on the right. They watched a romantic movie and did all the stuff couples did. Wouldn't that be a fucking dream come true? Happily ever after, no worries, no fighting.

Ivan slept by himself in his bed, just like every other night, cold and lonely. For he could only dream of being with the loud blonde seeing as it could never happen. He pretty much screwed up any chance he had with Alfred because of the Cold War. Now everything was just shit. The only hello he got from the other was either glare or a fuck off. And he savored it like any social needy person would, latching on to the words like it would be the last thing he would hear.

He was sick of it, and so tomorrow he planned to change it. He would make it so the blue-eyed boy would know what it was like to feel so needy and get nothing in return. All he needed to do now was wait.


	2. Tired Eyes

It was a chilly Friday morning. For some reason, the countries decided to have their meeting in Canada, right in the middle of winter. Ivan and a few other colder climate countries weren't affected as much by the weather, seeing as they were used to it, but still dressed accordingly. Alfred sat in the corner of the room talking to Arthur who didn't seem to be enjoying the conversation too much. What Ivan would do to switch places with the Brit. None of that would matter anymore later into the night though. The Russian would soon have Alfred's full, undivided attention.

All it would take is some Mandrax, an illegal drug in the shape of a yellow pill. Everything was already worked out so the plan would flow smoothly. He knew from careful observation that after every meeting Alfred goes and gets something to eat, except on Fridays when he'll go to a restaurant with a bar and have a few drinks. Ivan had hired a man to go into the same place the American was at, crush up the pill, and drop it into his drink when he wasn't looking. Alfred, being the child he is will probably decide he is in a good enough state to drive home and attempt to do so. Only Ivan will be there. Sure the blue-eyed American would fight him at first, objecting to getting into a car with someone he considered an enemy, but would finally cave in as the pill took its toll. Ivans thought up so many different scenarios of how to win the blonde over, but this one was sure to be the best.

The meeting carried on at an incredibly slow rate, making the Russian pick at his fingers out of boredom and anxiousness. Finally, Germany stopped talking and announced the end of the meeting and let everyone go. A few groaned as they stood up after an hour of sitting through Ludwig's lecture, letting their joints move. Others calmly collected their papers and left the room without another word. Alfred belonged to neither group, making his own category. He bugged Arthur about going to the bar with him, telling him to not be so uptight and let loose a little. The green-eyed country just brushed him off and continued gathering his things. Alfred laughed off the rejection from his former 'relative,' and continued on his way. Ivan had no trouble following him to the bar without being spotted, it was his area of expertise with the other after all, being ignored.

When he got to his destination, Ivan went to the back of the building to meet the man he'd paid to help out with his plan. After about ten minutes of waiting, he finally showed up. His name was Issac. He was 23, a freshman in college that started late because of personal issues, and he desperately needed money to pay off his tuition. He asked no questions, seeing as they went over things before meeting so it wouldn't look so suspicious when Ivan gave him the pill and sent him off. Now all Ivan had to do was wait in his car for Alfred to come out.

About 2 hours later a blonde man with Alfred's exact height and build came walking out of the bar. He looked a little drunk, grabbing on to things to steady himself as he walked to his car. Ivan quickly walked towards the other, shoving his harshly in the shoulder in the process. Alfred whipped himself around as best he could without falling over as he called out,

"Hey man, watch where you're going! Aren't you gonna say sorry?" His speech was a bit slurred and his eyes looked glossed over, although to Ivan he was still as handsome as ever. Especially when he wasn't glaring at him 20 feet away from across a table.

"Alfred? Is that you? You look horrible," Ivan replied, fake concern in his voice. The Americans face twisted into a mixture of what looked like rage and disgust as he realized who he was talking to.

"You're not doing much better yourself, Ivan." He started to walk off only to be stopped by the communist by grabbing his arm.

"Alfred you're not in the right state to drive. Come with me, I'll drive you home." The blue-eyed man looked at Ivan for a straight second in his eyes before saying,

"No." It made sense why he would say no, but that didn't mean the other was about to give up trying.

"Yes, you're tipsy and can't even walk straight, I'm driving you home."

"I don't want to."

"Too bad, I don't want you getting hurt. Now let's go, this isn't up for discussion." Alfred said no more, complying to Ivan's demands. He really did think the other man would put up more of a fight, throw a few punches or kicks at least, but he wasn't about to complain. Neither one of them spoke a word as they got into Ivan's car. Guess Alfred was all worn out. They drove for a bit, Ivan figured the other booked a hotel room but didn't care to ask. He would just take him back to his own room and have him sleep there. There used to be times when the two would be discussing plans so late into the night, they would just collapse on the couch from exhaustion. How he missed those times when the two countries got along and maybe were even considered friends. It would happen again, there was no doubt about that.

Ivan looked over to where Alfred sat, taking in all the features of his face. His shiny baby blue eyes that seemed to be staring off into something, pupils slightly blown from the drugs. Tan skin that matched his sandy blonde hair so well. Sharp jaw and chin, and high cheekbones. He was truly a gorgeous man.

"Ivan! The light!" Ivans eyes quickly snapped to the road only to brake just in time for a red light. A few horns blared from angry drivers as the two tensed up and tried to catch their breath.

"Sorry, I was distracted. It won't happen again, alright?" Alfred just slowly nodded as he went back to his lazy sitting position. A few minutes later Ivan heard snores coming from the other country in the car. He looked at the clock on his phone quickly. 11:38, not too bad. With his luck, they'll be able to get to the hotel before twelve. Ten minutes later Ivan pulled up to his hotel, got out of the car and headed inside. Leaving Alfred in the car for now. He went up to the front desk and smiled at the receptionist.

"Hello, my husband and I went to a bar earlier this evening and he had one too many drinks. He fell asleep in the car and I'm afraid I'm going to have to carry him in." The lady at the desk laughed at the situation and handed him another room key for Alfred before going back to whatever she was doing on her computer. Ivan headed back to the car and went over to Alfred's side. He hoped he wasn't about to get slapped by the blonde when he gets him out of the car and picks him up, but hey, whatever it takes.

Luckily the blonde stayed fast asleep in Ivans' arms throughout the whole trip from the car to the hotel room. He only had one bed in his room and was thankful for it at the time, but might not be the morning to come. He plopped Alfred down on the left side of the bed and took off his shoes and jacket. Then proceeded to remove his own before climbing into the bed with him.

"Goodnight Alfred F. Jones," he whispered before falling asleep. And for the first time in a while, he went to bed warm, and with someone he cared about next to him.


	3. Unpleasant Morning

Alfred woke up the next morning to a light shining right in his face, and someones else's body heat warming him. It felt so nice for a second before he realized what was happening, like when he was younger and spent the night in Arthurs bed because of something scaring him. He almost fell back asleep, almost. Ivan tossed a bit as Alfred flung the sheets off him to look at his sleeping companion. Seeing the others silver/grey hair made him gasp. A million questions ran through his head, all of which he needed answers to as quickly as possible before he had a heart attack.

"Ivan! Ivan wake up immediately!" The Russian sat up in the bed and rubbed the sleep out of eyes.

"What time is it?" He asked, not eager to answer any of Alfreds questions until he was fully awake.

"8:52." He's worked with the communist before, and knew demanding information from him wasn't going to work until he was ready to cooperate.

"Thank you. Now, I'm sure you're curious about this whole predicament, I would be if I were you." Ivan started.

"Did we do anything?" Alfred quickly and nervously stuttered out, cutting off the other man before he could finish.

"What do you mean?"

"Did we have intercourse?!" He responded, a bit irritated by Ivans cluelessness.

"Oh, why didn't you say that? No, we didn't have sex. Calm down." Alfred cringed at the word. How could Ivan be so blunt when talking about such things?

"How and why am I here?"

"I drove you and you were drunk. I couldn't let you drive home when you're not in the right state." Alfred took a deep breath, relaxing a little and letting his shoulders drop a little. It as quiet for a minute, before the silence was broken by Ivan climbing out of the bed. He pulled on his boots that rested right next to the bed and picked up his jacket, not needing it quite yet. Ivan never brought much with him when he went to meetings outside of his home country, just the essentials.

"Why?" Alfred suddenly blurts out. Ivan arched an eyebrow in confusion.

"I thought I already told you were dru-"

"No, I mean why did you do it? Why did you bother?" Ivan paused for a moment, not exactly sure how to respond to that.

"Because I care," that made Alfred let out a sarcastic laugh.

"Don't bullshit me, Ivan, you don't care about what happens to me! if anything you brought me here so you could kill me without any witnesses!" In less than a second, the Russian stormed over to him and grabbed his face with one hand, squeezing his cheeks together and not being gentle.

"You should be more grateful to those who are trying to help you." Alfred clawed at the hand on his face but was no match for the iron grip holding him. So he went with another tactic, kicking. But before his right foot could reach the Russian man's stomach, it was grabbed and held secure.

"That wasn't nice. All I've ever done is help you!" That was a complete and utter lie that they were both aware of. Ivans grip on his ankle tightened with every second that passed.

"That wasn't very nice of you, Wouldn't you agree? Nod your head," Alfred quickly nodded, wanting to be released. But the other man didn't give in just yet. He took a second to look into those baby blue eyes and try to guess what the other was feeling. Obviously rage, disgust, and fear. But there was something else too, something new. Maybe confusion? All he wanted to do was kiss his annoyingly handsome face till they all went away, and promise his baby he would never hurt him. Alfred had always been a sure man, knowing who he could trust and who he couldn't, Ivan wasn't his first mistake, but it seemed that he was overthinking things. Finally, he let him go. Alfred jumped back to rub the sore spots on his face where the fingers dug in, occasionally giving the other sideways glares. Ivan hated to hurt his love like that, but he was being very rude.

"I'll drive you back to the bar so we can get your car, then you can be rid of me, alright?" He simply nodded. The walk to the car and the drive was silent. The tension was clearly there, yet no one said anything. It was until they were close to the bar that Alfred said anything.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Alfred climbed his car and quickly drove off. Ivan watched him until he was out of sight. Sighing, he started the ignition and headed to the hotel. Part two of his plan was just beginning.


	4. Forgiving and Forgetting

Alfred sat on his couch with the TV on. He was in his house all the way up in the Nothern part of Maine, thinking back on the events of the previous night. He was supposed to be paying attention to the football game, but his mind was elsewhere. Ivan said he cared, there was no way he could possibly feel anything. The man was a psychopath, he wasn't capable of having feelings. Suddenly his phone buzzed. Speak of the devil, it was a text from him. He picked it up to read it.

Apparently, he had missed his flight and needed somewhere to stay.

"Fucking great," Alfred spoke aloud to himself. He couldn't say no, Ivan did just probably save him from a nasty car crash, he owed him one. After texting back a, 'Come over,' he got up to go make Ivan a bed. It was nothing fancy, just some blankets and pillows thrown on the couch, but still comfy enough to sleep on.

Alfred watched the game until he heard the doorbell ring.

"Come in!" He yelled, not bothering to get up and greet his guest. Ivan opened the door and walked in.

"I was afraid you sent me the wrong address. I thought for sure an American boy like you would live somewhere warmer." Alfred gave no reply.

He felt an attachment to Maine. It was the area of his country that was first discovered, after all, it felt like home.

Ivan walked around the dining room until he reached the living room, staring at his host for a bit.

"See something you like?" The blonde replied, a little irritated.

"Yes actually, you have a very nice house," it was true. Alfred put a lot of time and effort into his home. It wasn't fancy or tacky, just homey. Ivan decided he would like to live here when he finally got together with the other.

"I'm ordering Pizza for dinner, so I hope you're okay with that," Ivan grimaced.

"Why don't you let me cook something? It's the least I can do." Alfred paused to think about it before finally deciding.

"Sure, why not."

The two sat in the kitchen, Ivan cooking and Alfred on his phone. It was quiet, peaceful, like a happy afternoon for a regular couple, only that wasn't the case. Yet.

"So did you design the house yourself?" Ivan asked, hoping to break the ice.

"Mhm," was the Americans only response, to indulged in whatever he was doing on his phone to give him an actual answer.

"Do you often design houses?"

"I used too."

Alfred's responses were short and terse. What did he expect, the Russian to come over and not engage in conversation at all? Hideout behind a screen until he was gone? Not on his watch. Ivan dropped the spoon into the pot and walked over to the edge of the counter across from where Alfred was sitting. He pushed the phone down with a finger, letting it drop on the counter. Alfred looked up at him, a bit of fight in his eyes.

"I was watching that," he said coldly.

"Oh, were you? I couldn't tell," Ivan retorted with a smile. Alfred inched closer, squinting his eyes, almost challenging him.

"Asshole," challenge accepted.

"Bastard," Ivan also leaned forward a bit.

"Commie."

"Lardass."

"Shit stain," by now they were so close, Ivan could feel the other mans breath on his face. He wished to close the already so little space left so badly, yet didn't want to ruin things. Alfred also considered leaning in, but his emotions got the best of him. Not before eyes flickered down to his lips before pulling back to his original position. A small blush was present across his cheeks and on the top of his ears. 'So cute,' Ivan thought.

"So how's the ravioli going?"

About half an hour later, after the almost-kiss, the two were sitting at the dinner table in complete silence. That seemed to be a reoccurring theme with them, awkward moments of silence. Ivan stood up from where he was eating to bring the plates to the sink. He was in the middle of washing them when a small, almost shy voice broke the silence.

"I'm sorry," Ivan turned around, a confused look dressing his face. Alfred's head was resting on his arms, looking up at the communist sideways.

"What for?" He asked. Alfred's eyes began to tear up as he shifted his gaze on the wooden table.

"For the war, for being a dick to you, for just being a giant pain overall. You helped me and I'm being oblivious to that. So, I'm sorry." Alfred was afraid this would happen. He hoped not engaging with the other would make it able so his emotions wouldn't come pouring out, sadly his plan failed. The things he said made Ivan feel like shit. He had made the poor boy cry over a good deed he intentionally set up.

"Don't be sorry, the war was two-sided. You have the right to be a dick after what happened." By now tears had escaped Alfred's eyes and poured down his cheeks. His face was red and puffy as he wiped his nose on his arm, his hair falling over his eyes. He couldn't figure out what to say so he just stayed silent. Ivan hated his silence, he put the dishes down and walked over to where Alfred sat. Standing right in front of him with his arms out, he motioned him to come closer.

"Come here," Alfred didn't move for a second before jumping out of his chair and into Ivans embrace. His cries turned into apologizes and his grip around the Russian tightened.

"Alfred, as happy as I am with you getting your emotions out, you're squeezing me too hard." A muffled laugh was let out into Ivans coat. He eventually let go and wiped any leftover tears off his face.

"How about you go get cleaned up while I finish with the dishes?" Ivan suggested. The blonde nodded and left to go get cleaned up. After about 30 minutes, Ivan heard the padding of feet down the hallway.

"Feel better?"

"Yeah," the sound of a chair scraping across the floor was noticeable and the other plopping down on it.

"You're not gonna tell anyone about this, right?" Alfred said in a hopeful voice. Ivan turned around to face him, his hands flat against the counter to support himself.

"Well...I think I'll tell Francis and Gilbert. Feli too, he likes hearing about this kind of stuff." Alfred's eyes widened as he opened his mouth the protest.

"No, I'm not going to say anything. You're safe," he promised.

"You got me there for a second man, I really thought you were being serious! Don't scare me like that again," the blonde scolded.

"Sorry."

"Do you wanna watch something?" Alfred blurted out before he could stop himself. Goddamn his loud mouth. Ivan smiled,

"I would love to Alfred."


	5. Sitcoms and Insomnia

The two were currently sitting on the living room couch watching some sitcom, having a good time. In the show, one of the men was head over heels for some girl that was actually a bitch. That didn't stop him from embarrassing himself in front of her though.

"See Alfred, you could learn something from this man," Ivan teased with a serious look on his face. Alfred laughed.

"Please, if I wanted to know how to flirt, I would talk to Francis," they both burst out laughing a few seconds later, aware of how horrible the French countries flirting tactics were. Ivan looked over at Alfred.

"You know, I don't think I've ever seen you flirt before. You must suck." The other country snorted.

"I am not, I just never need to flirt when you're around," he poked back.

"Mhm okay. But I'm still not convinced, Mr. Jones…" Ivan scooted closer to the blonde, smirking at him.

"Do you need to be convinced, Mr. Buraginsuki?" Alfred flirted, scooting closer to him. Ivan swore to hear his name roll of the Americans tongue was enough to drive him crazy.

"Maybe I do," was the last thing he said before connecting his lips with the other. Alfred was a bit surprised but soon returned the affection. He scooted closer to the Russian, letting his hand rest on his shoulder. Ivan's hands were running through the Americans hair. After dying to touch him in any way for so long, this was pure heaven. And it only got better when Alfred decided to throw one leg over his waist.

He sighed into the kiss as he settled down in the other countries lap. Alfred was surprised at how gentle Ivan was, he expected the Russian to be rougher than this. Not that he was complaining or anything, it was sweet, to be handled like his partner cared, or like he was some fragile object. He couldn't help but jump a bit when he felt his guest gently pull at his hair. He almost didn't notice it with the other's tongue in his mouth, the heat impossibly good.

Wait, what was he doing? Was this just him feeling lonely and needing an outlet? He didn't want to let down Ivan now that he had kissed him back, but he also couldn't lie to him. So there was only one thing he could do.

"Wait. Ivan, wait!" He pulled back, catching his breath.

"What? What is it?" He looked up at the blonde with concern and worry.

"I-I just need a minute to think things over," he said, quickly scrambling off of Ivans lap.

"Take your time love," the Russian country was willing to wait as long as it took for Alfred to decide how he wanted things to go. They would end up together one way or another. Whether it be by force or choice, was the blondes decision. He stared up at the man pacing the room, deciding what would happen next.

"Look, Ivan, I like you and all but I can't-won't do this. You're a very attractive man, but I don't know if I can do this...yet." That yet was all Ivan needed to hear. It was a sliver of hope that maybe they would end up together without any trouble. He hoped Alfred would stick to his words. So, for now, all he could do was follow along.

"I completely understand, there's no need to feel bad. You'll figure things out. Now, how about we go to bed, ya? It's been a long night." He reassured with a smile. Alfred sighed and agreed, glad the other wasn't at all upset. So he headed off to his room, leaving behind an overwhelmed Ivan on the couch to his own devices. And when he was gone, the Russian couldn't help but smile. Finally. He finally had a chance with his love.

He slept peacefully that night. The next morning was no doubt awkward. They both ate their cereal as Ivan bought plane tickets for either the present day or sometime tomorrow.

"You know you can stay here another night if all the flights are booked," Alfred suggested.

"It looks as if I won't be going anywhere until Wednesday," he looked up at the American, trying to figure out if he was welcome for 4 more days at his house.

"That's fine, but be ready to watch football with me." Ivan beamed at him.

"I can't wait."

Four days went by with no problem. The two ate and watched TV together, occasionally flirting, which Ivan savored each time it did happen, and all and all had a good time. It did eventually come to the night before the day of Ivans departure. They both decided it would be best if they just sat down and talked that night instead of watching TV, enjoying each others company while it lasted. They really talked about anything that came to mind. Alfred told embarrassing stories of his childhood, and Ivan told stories of his parties and past experiences. He made sure the stories were light and happy, (funny too so he could hear that amazing laugh) just to keep things happy between the two. It soon became late and they decided they should go to bed.

"Good night Ivan. I had fun tonight, thank you for that." Ivan smiled at him and waved him off.

"Of course, of course, now go to bed. See you tomorrow." He nodded and left. The only problem was, trying to sleep for both of them seemed impossible that night, for their heads were swimming with too many emotions to even try to think about sleep.

Ivan was trying to at least get a catnap in when he heard the faint noise of footsteps. Guessing it was Alfred getting a midnight snack, he wasn't worried. It was only when he felt someone shake him that he actually opened his eyes. The American was looking down at him with some kind of emotion dressing his face Ivan had never seen before, a look that made him guess he was blushing too. Suddenly he felt strong hands squeeze his side and he knew what it was, lust.

"Have you made up your mind?" He asked. Alfred nodded his head yes.

"Do you want to go to your room?" Another yes. So with that Ivan picked him up bridal style, which was fairly easy seeing how strong he was, and carried him to his room. He set him down very carefully, wanting to be as gentle as possible with the angel below him. His honey blonde hair created a halo around his face that was illuminated by the moonlight coming through the window. The perfect picture.

"Ivan," Alfred whined, pulling him down by the collar of his shirt.

"Please?" That made Ivan lose his mind. He only then realized how in love he was with this man, this being of perfection that was currently begging him for pleasure.

"Alright, alright sorry." Ivan took off his coat and began to unbutton Alfred's shirt. He could hear the other's breath stagger a bit and slowed down, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable. When he calmed down a bit, Ivan continued to take his shirt off.

"You have no idea how pretty you look right now love." Ivan complimented. Alfred gave him a small, but sweet, smile as he pulled him in for a kiss by the back of his neck. It started out cute and innocent, like either one of them would break if they were any rougher, but soon developed into something more heated and demanding. Their tongues intertwined as they got a taste of one another. Some spit fell on America's chin, but that wasn't important right now.

Alfred often moaned into Ivans' mouth, and wrapped his legs around the other's waist, trying to get as close as possible. The Russians hands ran over every detail on the other's body, often going back for seconds as he mapped everything out. Where the American was sensitive, where he was uncomfortable, everything. Ivan wanted to know every little thing about the blonde. He also felt he needed to tell him everything. So before he could stop himself, he opened his mouth.

"Alfred I-I drugged you." Suddenly he stopped, not running his hands through Russia's silver hair anymore, but instead looking up at him with sad, confused eyes.

"What?" He asked, concerned about what his partner was talking about.

"That night I took you to the hotel, you weren't completely drunk. I had someone put Mandrax in your drink so you would be unable to drive home, and I would have to take you back with me. I'm sorry." Alfred was phased for a moment before turning his head to look at the wall with an angry expression.

"Get off of me," He commanded.

"Alfred, angel, I'm so so-"

"Get off of me!" He pushed Ivan away, only the man wasn't leaving

"America, please listen to me, I didn't want to but-"

"Shut up! I don't care! You bastard! You asshole!" Alfred pounded on his chest, tears started to swell in his eyes, feeling betrayed by someone he was starting to trust.

"I can't believe you! I can't believe I fell for it! God, I'm so stupid! I actually spilled my feelings in front of you, I trusted you, I apologized to you! What the fuck-why the fuck-Fuck!" Angry tears spilled out of Alfred's eyes. Ivan reached down to wipe them away, only to have his hand swatted and to be pushed off of the American. He got up from the bed and paced around the room, mumbling things to himself before turning to face Ivan with a death glare.

"Out."

"What?"

"Get out of my house," he sternly commanded.

"Alfred, I have nowhere to go-"

"I don't care, get out!" he pointed to the door. Ivan sighed but understood. He picked up his jacket and put it on. Before he left, he stopped to say something to Alfred, perhaps apologize for the tenth time, but the angry blonde was having none of it. He stuck his chin up in the air and refused to look at him.

"I'll call you," was all Ivan said before leaving, his tail between his legs, ready for another lonely night.


	6. Happily Ever After

For the next week Ivan called Alfred about 10 times, desperately trying to get a hold of him and clear the tension. Only he never answered or listened to the voicemails, he just simply deleted them. What the hell was the Russian thinking? He would just get over the fact he drugged and tricked him into having romantic feelings towards the other? Hell no. Alfred was never going to forget what he did.

He started to get annoyed with all the drama, so to get his mind off things he went out to lunch with France.

"Mon Amie, you seem to be troubled," Francis stated, noticing his friends lack of wanting to conversate. Alfred shrugged, not looking up from the screen on his phone.

"Tell me, what's wrong?" The Frenchman asked.

"Ivan! That's what's wrong! The man won't leave me alone! It's almost like he's obsessed with being with me, he drugged me Francis!" Alfred exclaimed. His friends just let out a small laugh for a response.

"How is this funny to you?!"

"Mon amie, he's in love with you. Don't you see that? When one is in love, they will do anything they can to have the other feel the same way about them. I'm not saying Russia drugging you was an okay thing to do, but you must understand what it's like to be in his position. Remember that phase you had where you liked Chine?" Francis asked with a hint of tease in his voice. The American blushed and wrinkled his nose.

"Yeah, how could I forget?" The Frenchman smile at him and rested his head on his hand.

"Throw him a bone, give him a second chance. You might find you like Ivan as a partner." Alfred sighed and nodded.

"I guess...but what if I don't like him?"

"Well, then you don't."

"It's not like I can talk to him anyway. He's probably back in Russia by now," Alfred stated.

"Then go," Francis suggested.

"What?"

"Go. To. Him." Alfred looked at the European country with a confused look dressing his face.

"Get on a plane to Russia and talk to Ivan. Ooh! And while you're there, get some vodka, the good kind please." Alfred rolled his baby blue eyes and smiled internally.

"Alright see you in a week I guess."

"Safe travels mon amie!" Francis yelled as he walked off, thinking to himself, 'Young love, treasure it while it lasts dear.'

Alfred went home and eagerly packed some stuff, somewhat excited and nervous to see the Russian again. He brought some portable chargers and snacks for the plane ride, realizing it would be a gravely long flight. He heard a knock on his door as he was shoving some pants into what little room was left in his suitcase.

"Yes?"

"Hey, uh, what're you doing?" Called out Mathew from the other side of the door.

"I'm going on a small trip."

"Oh, okay. Call me if you need anything." And with that the larger country left. Alfred smiled and shook his head, appreciating his brothers lack of interest in his 'business trips.'

He grabbed his keys off the counter and said one last goodbye to the house before getting in his car and driving to the airport. A million thoughts filled his head throughout the drive and plane ride. Would Ivan forgive him being one of the bigger ones. The man didn't usually forgive very easily he's learned after a while. But the blonde was sure to have him convinced by the end of the day. All he could do now was try to sleep.

It was a cold morning in Moscow Russia (What else did Alfred expect?). The sky was grey and dismal, giving the country an unhappy setting. Probably because of Ivans mood, he'd have to fix that. The American felt slightly out of place with all the eyes watching him. He was definitely the odd one out of the bunch, his darker complexion and accent making him stick out of the crowd like a sore thumb. Not that he really cared at the moment. He had more important people to please.

The ride to Ivans house was long and tedious, he often picked at his hands as an outlet for his stress. When the car finally stopped he quickly paid the driver then bolted out. He knocked on the large door to the Russians house, out of breath and still trying to collect air. The door opened in less than a minute with the silver-haired man behind it. He took 3 seconds to look at Alfred before the blonde ran into his arms, grasping at the other man tightly.

"A-Alfred?" He said confused, slowly returning the affectionate contact.

"Yeah," he answered not letting go just yet. He missed Ivan so much. His natural smell and warmth, he felt like it was gone for years and oh how much he craved for it to come back. Ivan tried to pull back but Alfred showed no sign of letting go.

"Alfred, what is this about?" That's when he finally let go, and stared up into those lilac eyes.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't realize how you felt and went a bit overboard, but you did drug me and we still need to talk about that…" By now he was just ranting, trying to tell Ivan every single thing he was thinking from the flight up until now. Russia cut him off by brushing a lock of golden hair from his face and smiling down at him.

"I like you too." Alfred stopped, then let a dopey smile blossom on his face as he responded.

"Yeah, we can work on the love part. But for now, like is good too."

That day they apologized and did things all couples did. And Ivan learned, that this, was a dream come true.

The End.


End file.
